


memories (don't hold us down)

by riverlight



Category: due South
Genre: Amnesia, Community: stop_drop_porn, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-14
Updated: 2007-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverlight/pseuds/riverlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he wakes up, he's in a big white bed, tangled up in miles of sheets, totally naked, and he doesn't remember who he is. "Whoops," he says, aloud, 'cause no way <i>that's </i>a good sign.</p>
            </blockquote>





	memories (don't hold us down)

When he wakes up, he's in a big white bed, tangled up in miles of sheets, totally naked, and he doesn't remember who he is. "Whoops," he says, aloud, 'cause no way _that's_ a good sign.

Which is when the guy sprawled next to him in bed—and whoa, there's a _naked guy_ in his bed—flails upright and then sits there blinking at him with this completely smacked-upside-the-head look, like he's got no idea where he is or how he ended up there, which, hey, he can relate. "Oh, dear," the guy says, and then his gaze flicks to the seriously mussed sheets and their total lack of anything resembling clothes, and he _blushes,_ color washing over his cheekbones.

And okay, so, maybe he should be worried, here, 'cause from where he's sitting it looks like a) he and this guy got a hotel room together, b) did something that that involved fairly athletic nakedness, and c) then he somehow lost his memory. But he kinda just wants to sprawl out on the bed and burrow into the mountain of pillows, and if this were dangerous, he'd know it, right? So whatever, it's totally fine. If he's comfortable enough to wallow, it's all good. It'll come back to him somehow.

Naked Guy's starting to look seriously worried now. "I'm sorry, this is going to sound terribly foolish," he says, "but do you know who I am?"

"Nope, not a clue," he says, cheerily, 'cause this is a pretty damn nice way to wake up, even if he can't remember his name. Naked Guy gives a frown, like this is completely worrying.

"And this doesn't _alarm_ you?" Naked Guy says, and hey, maybe he'll drag the guy back to bed with him, 'cause even frowning he's pretty fucking gorgeous, big blue eyes and brown hair sticking up every which way and a hint of morning stubble, and hey, they're naked in bed together, right? That's got to mean something.

And yeah, maybe this should be weird—naked! in bed with a guy! no memory!—but it's totally not. "Naw, way I figure it?" he says. "Somehow we got, what's it called, insomnia, and lost our minds—"

"Amnesia," the guy murmurs, "and I believe you mean memories, not minds—"

"—yeah, yeah, memories, _whatever,_ " he says. "But like I was saying, the way I figure it, there's only one reason we'd end up in a hotel bed naked together."

The guy blinks at him a moment. "That is _completely illogical,_ " he says, finally, like he can't even believe what he's hearing.

"Okay, you want logic?" He ticks it off on his fingers. "A, we're not brothers, 'cause, hello, _naked._ " The guy nods, conceding the point. "B, we're not boyfriends, 'cause otherwise, why the hotel?" Naked Guy looks stubborn, but nods anyway. "C, and I'm gonna play detective for a minute here, we spend a lot of time together, 'cause whatever happened to us with this, um, amnesia, happened to both of us. So either we work together or—" he does air-quotes—"we _work_ together, you get me?" The guy still looks shocked, but he nods anyway.

Naked Guy darts a glance down at his lap and blushes again, and okay, yeah, he's hard, but come on, who could blame him? The guy's gorgeous. "How do you know?" he says, like he wants to argue.

"I got a feeling," he says, and gives the guy his best grin. And yeah, it's just a feeling, but even if the guy's arguing, he's not moving away, and he's got this kind of yearning look on his face. So he licks his lips and leans in nice and slow to telegraph what he's doing and lays one on him, just kisses him, bam.

Maybe it was instinct, but he sure as hell wasn't wrong, 'cause the guy just _melts,_ leans into the kiss like it's all he ever wanted. "Good god," he murmurs, and the next thing he knows the guy's got him pushed down into the pile of pillows with his hands on either side of his face, kissing him for all he's worth, and all he can do is hang on and kiss him back. And god, he had to have been right about the two of them, 'cause it's good, it's really really _good._ It feels like electricity or something, this shock that goes right through him. He pulls the guy against him, skin-to-skin, and they both groan.

He's so hard he thinks he could come from just this, the slide of his cock against the guy's stomach, the greedy hands in his hair, the biting kisses the guy's trailing down his neck. The guy's hard against his thigh, and that feels amazing, too; god, he's sorry he doesn't remember doing this before, 'cause the guy's gorgeous, flushed and panting and making these little gasping noises like he wants it so much he just can't bear it. "Oh, god, oh, god," he's gasping, "god, _Ray—"_ And then he stops moving entirely, staring down at him, wide-eyed.

Right now, though, he just doesn't _care_ what the guy's remembered—"Come on, come on, don't _stop,"_ he manages, and gets his hand down between their bodies to take the guy's cock in his hand. God, he thinks, if it's this good when he doesn't remember, what is it gonna be like to do it when they're both in their right minds? The guy shudders and drops his head against the crook of his neck, and god, he's almost there, he can feel it—"Come on, come on," he says again, and the guy mutters, "Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray," and comes against him, and then he's going off, too, feeling like the top of his head's going to come off from the pleasure.

Neither of them say anything for a while, just lying there coming down from it. "So, uh," he says finally. "Guess my name's Ray, huh?"

The guy huffs a laugh against his shoulder and says, "I suppose so."

Ray wraps an arm around him and pulls him closer. He maybe should be worried that he doesn't remember anything still, but right now he's feeling too damn good to care. "You think we'll remember this in the morning?" he says.

"There's only one way to find out," the guy says sleepily, and okay, here's one thing Ray does know about him: he's apparently like every other guy ever, 'cause he's totally about to conk out right there on Ray's shoulder. Which, okay, it's pretty hard to argue with that logic, so he settles the cheap hotel sheet around them and lets himself drift off into sleep. Whatever. He's not worried. He's got a feeling they get along _fine._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to etben and nos4a2no9 for beta, and to everyone else who offered but who, I suspect, went to bed before I could toss this their way! Thanks anyway, ladies—I appreciate it.


End file.
